The Birth of Dandelions

There once lived a very beautiful sun. She knew she was gorgeous; she was very proud of her looks. She knew some people worshiped her; she knew all of them were very happy when the morning came. She knew she was an inspiration, a goddess. Therefore, before showing herself up in the morning, she diligently preened herself. She was good looking no matter what, but she wanted to make sure she looked as shiny as she could be. But at some point, it became not enough. Sun was thinking of people at night:

“How sad they must be without seeing me,” were her thoughts. Then she had an idea: to send little reminders of her, her tiny pieces to Earth.

When night fell, people, who liked to have deep relaxing night walks, were surprised by little yellow flowers, scattered on the ground here and there. They reminded people of Sun; they thought to themselves: “Tomorrow, I’ll see you again, my stunning sun.” And Sun, assured that people were waiting for her, would appear in her best every morning.

But people weren’t the only ones who noticed the small memorials that Sun left. Moon—her sister—was also looking at the flowers. Looking and thinking how unfair it is, she is no less of her, but Sun left memorials only in her honor.

“My dear sister, how could it be? In your selflove, you are forgetting your elder sister and best friend.” thought Moon.

Moon was very offended by Sun. She decided not to speak to her. And our Sun? She never meant to cause harm to her dearest sister. So, an idea came up to her. She worked the whole night at her creatures. The next night, when Moon was rising up from her long sleep, she didn’t notice shining Sun’s reminders. Oh, wait. But there is something. When Moon took a closer look, she noticed white fluffs, which surrounded the middle of a flower from where yellow rays used to grow, creating a sphere. A sphere that in a bright day would remind people of the light of a calm, romantic, refreshing Moon.

“Oh, dear sister,” thought Moon. “You are the best.”